Nika always strived to be Lev’s perfect wife. Like a display, she cooked, cleaned, and maintained the place.

She didn’t know that her relentless endeavor to please others was slowly eroding her identity.

While making breakfast one Sunday morning, Nika heard Lev come, his voice drowsy but expectant.

“Good morning,” Lev muttered sleepily as he entered the kitchen. Breakfast, what?

Nika grinned as she grabbed mushrooms and tomatoes from the fridge for an omelette. Also, fresh coffee.

You are the home mistress, right? He said something that put Nika on edge. The tone in his speech usually indicated a negative outcome.

What’s wrong? Nika turned, squinting.

Nothing in particular, Lev looked aside. Just that Mom and Kristina are coming over. For lunch.

A second exhale from Nika. The family of Lev commonly understood “just for a little while” to mean several hours. She tightened her hands to hide her worry.

What time will they arrive? Her voice was tense as she asked.

About one to two. And…—Lev paused. Kristina brings kids.

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Nika softly counted ten. Kristina’s six-year-old twins were hurricanes, not just mischievous. Their visits made the flat look like a war.

Fine, Nika murmured as she grabbed a frying pan and turned on the stove, trying not to betray her annoyance. — I might have to run to the supermarket. Food will be scarce.

Honey, you know how much Mom loves your dishes,—Lev tried to embrace her, but Nika pretended not to notice. Why did she need that now?

Indeed, Varvara Dmitrievna constantly criticized her food. Salty soup, uncooked meat, and plain salad were all issues.

By two, the place was spotless and the oven was roasting a potato with meat that smelt great. Varvara Dmitrievna’s favorite cake was in the fridge.

The doorbell rang precisely at 14:15. Nika answered after adjusting her apron.

Niku-sha! Varvara Dmitrievna stormed into the corridor, her coat flapping. Dear, how are you?

Kristina entered with the kids soon after. After entering the apartment, the twins ran into the living room without taking their shoes off.

Kids, shoes! Varvara Dmitrievna waved her hand dismissively and replied:
Leave them to run. You know they have trouble sitting still.

Watching muddy footsteps on the bright carpet, Nika pursed her lips. She often questioned why no one could make them take off their shoes at the threshold, but nobody listened.

Food for lunch? Christina asked as she entered the kitchen. Oh, casserole? Mom, I made one with mushrooms last week. It was wonderful!

Varvara Dmitrievna sat at the table, smiling. Kristina can teach Niku-sha. Cooking is her forte.

As she set the tableware, Nika was quiet. A loud crash from the living room sounded like something fell.

“Lev, check what your nephews did,” Nika remarked quietly.

Ah, come on, Lev waved her off without glancing around. Let them play—they’re kids.

Yes, Varvara Dmitrievna supported her son. Otherwise, Nika, you’re polite. Everything must be perfect.

I really love order, Nika whispered.

A home should be alive! Varvara Dmitrievna shouted. Niku-sha, you stress over cleanliness. Having kids would be like chasing a rag.

Nika’s cheeks burned. Children were unpleasant because the doctors urged her to wait before trying again after two failed tries. She kept quiet, repressing her bursting words.

Lunch went similarly. Varvara Dmitrievna advised, Kristina boasted about her cooking, and the twins ran amok in the apartment, causing havoc. Lev sat peacefully, enjoying the moment, unaware of Nika’s discomfort.

As Varvara Dmitrievna finished a second slice of cake, Kristina and I discussed meeting at your place every Sunday. Your kitchen is vast and you cook with passion.

Nika froze, holding a cup, and gazed at her.

— Every Sunday? She repeated to calm herself.

Of course! — Kristina happily joined. Will be great! Mom can exchange recipes, I can bring distinctive meals. The kids love playing here!

Another crash occurred in the living room. It sounded like a figure Nika brought back from Italy.

Lev, say what? — Varvara Dmitrievna faced her son.

Great idea! Despite Nika’s dissatisfaction, Lev smiled. Correct, darling?

Nika laid her cup on the table with effort, feeling like her opinion meant nothing.

Nika started, but Varvara Dmitrievna was already planning:

I’ll bring my special pie next Sunday. Niku-sha, you want to cook meat? You know the kids adore your Olivier salad—more salads.

Indignant, Nika stood up from the table. Even Sundays were tedious cooking and cleaning after all her weeks of labor and housework.

Excuse me, but next Sunday I want to rest, Nika replied quietly but firmly.

Varvara Dmitrievna froze, fork in hand:

What is “rest”? What about family lunch?

Nika tried to speak softly, but her voice was tired. I need a day off.

Tired of what? Kristina snorted. Tired of house wandering?

Sitting at the table, Lev frowned. Varvara Dmitrievna picked up a napkin and rustled paper, breaking the silence.

“Honey, let’s discuss this later,” he murmured, trying to restore control.

“There’s nothing to discuss here,” Varvara Dmitrievna snapped, placing the napkin on her lap. The family must unite. Niku-sha, you’re spoilt. During my time…

The tension was mounting, so Lev interrupted, “Mom, please.” Talk to Nika.

Lev approached Nika that evening after the guests gone and she was cleaning up the figurine’s fragments, leaving only a fracture. He stood behind her, attempting to talk, but nothing came out.

Why did you make that scene? Mom is upset—his voice was tired.

A scene? Nika clutched the dustpan without looking up. I just want to rest.

From family? — Lev yelled, losing patience. Family dinners and traditions are vital to Mom and Kristina!

And my opinion doesn’t matter? Nika placed the dustpan on the shelf and faced her husband. She sounded hurt. — I’m human, Lev. Quite exhausted.

Remember that you’re a wife, not a guest! Lev replied, furious. You have family duties!

Nika retreated, seemingly spared. Eyes hurt, heart constricted.

You perceive it that way? Just your family’s servant? – she was furious.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Lev tried to recover. — Try to comprehend…

No, you understand, Nika interrupted, her voice hard and eyes determined. I won’t cook for your family every Sunday. I need rest.

Next Saturday, the home was quiet yet tense. Lev tried several words to persuade her.

Mother called. They’re coming tomorrow at two, he murmured quietly, not looking at her.

Nika said, “Fine,” refusing to be provoked. I won’t cook.

What, you won’t? — Tense, Lev hit the table with his fist. They expect a party lunch!

— I expect understanding—Nika shrugged comfortably, exhausted. — We don’t always get what we want.

When the house was full of lunch preparation sounds on Sunday morning, Nika shut herself in her bedroom. The noise suggested Lev was handling the pans awkwardly. Dishes appeared to be leaving the kitchen. Nika absorbed herself in a book.

As expected, the doorbell rang at two. Varvara Dmitrievna was the first to arrive, her loud voice filling the apartment.

Lev said, “She’s in the bedroom,” from the kitchen. Tired, she said.

— What?! Varvara Dmitrievna’s fury rang through the house. “Lying in bed while the family is hungry?” Niku-sha! Leave immediately!

Nika ignored the yells and turned a page.

This is absurd! Varvara continued. How can you endure this, Lev? Your woman is utterly unpredictable!

Kristina agreed, joining the commotion. — I would never mistreat my husband’s relatives.

After an hour, visitors left as a joyful meal looked unlikely. Varvara Dmitrievna publicly demanded a better wife for her son.

Nika left the bedroom when the door closed. The attempted celebratory meal disaster was visible to Lev in the kitchen.

— Happy now? His voice was tired and dissatisfied. — You humiliated me publicly.

Nika looked at his back and everything became brutally evident. Five years of marriage, concessions, and pleasing everyone were in vain.

You know, Lev, she whispered, I finally understand one thing.

That’s what? To her, Lev turned sharply.

I mean less to you than your mother and sister. This will never change.

Nika left silently and returned to her bedroom. She shook, but she had decided and could not back down. Packing her luggage slowly, as if leaving this world and home.

You doing what? Voice of Lev resonated at door.

Nika said, “I’m leaving,” without looking back. Can’t do this anymore.

But where? His voice was panicked.

To Alina. She invited me to stay long ago.

Lev nervously stroked his hair to regain control.

You can’t leave! Discuss and compromise.

Five years of compromise, Lev. Squinting, Nika zipped her suitcase. Know what I got back? Free cook and maid for your family.

She called from her phone.

Hi, Alina. Remember you invited me to stay? Does the offer stand?

A cab took Nika away an hour later, and she saw Lev in the rearview mirror. He stood still by the entryway like a stone statue, and Nika felt no guilt.

Alina welcomed her with open arms.

Finally you choose! I told you this couldn’t continue.

Nika felt lighter in her friend’s lovely apartment. No one requested family lunches, chastised, or told her how to act.

Her phone buzzed with calls and messages. Lev wrote he missed her. Varvara Dmitrievna wrote angry emails about ingratitude, and Kristina slammed her for quitting the family.

Nika muted her phone and slept peacefully for the first time in years.

Nika noticed her appearance changed the next morning on her way to work. She seemed more confident, like she had lost a lot of weight.

“You look different,” her employer said, staring at her. – Like something significant left you.

Nika grinned.

That’s it. I finally live for myself.

Lev visited Nika’s office a week later. A bag of worried phrases in his pocket, he stood by the door.

Please return. Everything is clear now, it will be different. His voice was forceful, but Nika no longer regretted or wanted to return.

— Really? “Nika looked at him cautiously. What will change?

“I’ll talk to my mom,” Lev said. They will arrive less regularly.

Shaking her head, Nika said, Everything will return to normal. – The issue remains unclear.

.
She left him without looking back and got into Alina’s car at the entryway.

Nika opened a document folder while unpacking at home. Divorce. The step was difficult yet necessary. Five years—enough time to know that sometimes everything ends and it’s not worth continuing.

Are you sure? Always concerned, Alina asked.

Yes, Nika nodded. I should have done this earlier.

Varvara Dmitrievna terrorized. She called, worked, and flipped out. She couldn’t understand her son’s rejection.

Can you treat my son this way? her mother-in-law yelled. He adores you!

No, Nika said gently. – He enjoys your convenience. I no longer seek convenience.

Despite expectations, the divorce went smoothly. Lev accepted it. Perhaps he recognized the marriage was doomed. Sale of the apartment was required.

Nika moved into her little, but her own, apartment three months later. Her heart lightened as she organized her possessions. She finally felt at home.

Nika thought on the past while drinking tea by the window that evening. On how she attempted to be the perfect wife, lost herself trying to satisfy everyone, and was frightened to disappoint.

Her phone rang—Lev said, “I miss you. Can we try again? ”

Nika glanced at the television without anguish or regret for the first time. She seized the phone and removed the message. Past was behind her. She created the rules in her new existence.

Nika felt peaceful as the moon lit the room gently. She was in her own life and place, as intended.

She felt light in the morning. She was starting a fresh day on her own terms. That was lovely.

Nika’s narrative empowers you to create limits and prioritize your needs to recover control. It’s hard and requires sacrifice, but Nika learnt that living for ourselves, not others, brings peace and happiness.

Nika’s story may relate with those overwhelmed by family, work, and society. Ask yourself: Are you living for yourself or others?

Inspired by true events and people, this work is fictionalized for creativity. To preserve privacy and enrich the story, names, characters, and facts were changed. Any resemblance to real people, events, or places is unintentional.